


Jeopardy

by Siria



Category: Castle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which questions are asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeopardy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pollitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollitt/gifts).



> An extra Yuletide treat for pollitt! With thanks to my beta.

Ryan's couch is possibly the least comfortable couch in all of Manhattan. It's lumpy and misshapen, with a vicious spring that attacks the unsuspecting person who sits down on the left side, and it's covered in a vivid orange fabric that's somewhat screened from view by an unfortunate blanket knitted by Ryan's sister. Esposito's somewhat made his peace with it—or as much as he can with something he suspects Ryan salvaged from a dumpster at best; at worst from an evidence locker, because someone _died_ on it—but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

"If you don't stop complaining about my couch," Ryan says, in between slurping the milk from his bowl of cereal, "you can leave, bro. You're cutting into valuable _Jeopardy_ watching time."

It's a Monday afternoon and it's raining, Esposito has a badly sprained ankle and Ryan's building has an elevator—these, Esposito tells himself, are the reasons he's sitting on Ryan's lumpy couch, his bandaged foot propped up on Ryan's battered coffee table, watching Ryan eat Captain Crunch and stare avidly at crappy daytime TV. Convenience and boredom, these are the reasons—not the fact that Ryan drove him straight here from the hospital without stopping to ask if Esposito might want to go back to his own place; not the fact that Esposito's got a toothbrush in Ryan's closet-sized bathroom, and a change of clothes stashed away in Ryan's even tinier actual closet.

"What is Mount St Helen's?" Ryan says through a mouthful of cereal, then pumps his fist in glee when the contestant on screen wins another $12,000. "Excellent."

Esposito sighs. He is so screwed. "You know," he says, because a man should make at least a pretense at dignity, "I bet there's a re-run of _Die Hard_ on or something, we could—"

Ryan puts the now-empty bowl down on the coffee table, flops back so that he's pressed warm and companionable along Esposito's side. "Nuh uh. Partner who has to go into a burning building to rescue the other partner gets to pick the channel. Which, who was that today, oh, I do believe it was me. So we're watching _Jeopardy_ , and you're just going to sit there and keep that ankle elevated, okay?"

Esposito has a dark suspicion that somewhere in Manhattan, Rick Castle is laughing at him. "Okay," he mumbles, and sits there as Ryan theoretically wins enough imaginary money to pay the rent on a hypothetical penthouse apartment for a month or two.

Halfway through the episode, Esposito's contemplating a nap, but then he hears it—Alex Trebek's carrying tones saying, "The fearless homicide detective from Brooklyn who provides banter and back-up in the _Nikki Heat_ series of books."

"Who is Detective Ochoa?" says the podiatrist from Milwaukee, and is rewarded with another $15,000.

Esposito sits up straight. "Bro."

"Dude," Ryan says.

"I'm a question on _Jeopardy_?" Esposito says. Maybe he should call his mother—this is probably the kind of thing a mother wants to know, that her offspring's fictional alter ego is a game-show question.

" _You're_ a question on _Jeopardy_?" Ryan says.

"I am totally a question on _Jeopardy_ ," Esposito says, feeling much better about the fact that he's sitting in his boyfriend's ratty apartment on a Monday afternoon with a busted ankle. To be honest, he might be approaching smug.

"Why are you a question on _Jeopardy_ and I'm not?" Ryan says.

Esposito smirks. "I think it's because I'm a national literary treasure."

"There is so much wrong with that statement," Ryan says, elbowing him in the side, "I don't even know where to begin."

"Or maybe it's karma," Esposito continues, "for being so heroic. So _fearless_ and heroic."

"I hate you," Ryan says, "I want you to know that, because who is the person who pulled his boyfriend's sorry ass out of the burning building this morning?"

"Who went in there in the first place," Esposito says, "to rescue the puppies?"

"Maybe it's my karma," Ryan mumbles, "because I did something in a past life."

Esposito's phone buzzes. He flips it open to find a text message from Castle: _i am a question on jeopardy! am officially national literary treasure. think this gives me an in with beckett_? Esposito snorts and deletes it.

"Of course," Esposito says, tossing his phone onto the table, "you could look at this as some good karma for you, bro."

Ryan arches an eyebrow at him. "You want to explain your logic on this?"

"Well," Esposito says, carefully casual. "Now you get to tell people that you're making out on a regular basis with a guy who is famous enough to be the answer to a question on _Jeopardy_."

"Are you seriously trying to put the moves on me using _Jeopardy_?" Ryan says. "That is a shocking abuse of your celebrity. I am officially appalled."

"You'll be able to read all about it next week in _People_ ," Esposito says, mock-solemn, shifting so that he's a little closer to Ryan, wincing when that jars his injured ankle.

Ryan frowns at him. "You're supposed to keep that elevated, man."

"So many possible puns here," Esposito says, curling his fingers into the hem of Ryan's Green Lantern t-shirt, "so little time."

"You are not going to—" Ryan's words are cut off when Esposito kisses him. His lips are a little chapped, but his mouth is hot and wet, and Esposito really likes the way Ryan smiles against his mouth. He finds he doesn't even mind the ugly couch so much when Ryan moves so that he's straddling Esposito's lap, pushing him down into the lumpy cushions and making it so that they're hip to hip.

"Now what do you think," Ryan says, reaching down to unbutton Esposito's jeans, "it's gonna do to my karma, me debauching a national literary treasure like this?"

Esposito makes a show of considering it—furrows his brow, purses his lips. "What is... something absolutely awesome?"

"Double bonus points for _you_ ," Ryan says, grinning, and bends to make sure Esposito gets his reward.


End file.
